


Cookies

by Talvin



Series: Miraculous Mom and Dad [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Drabble, Her parents know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 07:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20224252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talvin/pseuds/Talvin
Summary: Marinette's Parents have figured out where all the extra cookies are going.So now Tom does a little extra, every morning.(One of my old Tumblr drabbles ported to AO3.)





	Cookies

Morning, before dawn.

Tom Dupain turned on the lights in the Bakery’s kitchen. He set the ovens to their various temperatures, moved the dough from the cooler to the proofer, double-checked the supplies, all the things he had done for years. A baker started the day earlier than other people, after all. Sabine was upstairs, preparing a breakfast for the two of them to eat when he was ready for a break. Then they would come down together and prepare to open the shop. 

Having taken care of these tasks, he set himself to one he had only begun this last year. 

Flour. White sugar. Brown sugar. Butter, carefully creamed. Vanilla. Egg. Baking Soda. A bit of Salt.

Chocolate chips, of course.

Tom loved chocolate chip cookies, and his daughter had inherited that love. He and her mother had always kept some around for her (in moderation, dear, in moderation!), but suddenly she more than doubled her intake of them. A baker notices these things. Parents notice these things. They talked about it while Marinette was at school, and they decided to keep an eye on it. That was hardly the only odd change in their daughter, after all.

Every morning on her way to school, Marinette would grab two chocolate chip cookies. One for her mouth, and one for her purse. Yet when Sabine confiscated the purse one evening (“It needs a good cleaning, Marinette!”) there we no cookie crumbs in the purse. Nor indeed anything else at all. It was returned to her, cleaned, and they pretended not to notice her relief. 

Then there were the cookies that went missing when they knew Marinette was asleep. Or in the shower. Or doing homework at her desk. Or playing video games with Alya and Nino. Not many. Just one at a time. But a baker knows his shop.

Other things started to make sense, in an odd sort of way. Little glimpses, overheard conversations, unexplained absences. They were proud. Terrified, but proud.

So Tom did what any Baker/Father would do in his situation: every morning, he made fresh Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Yesterday’s would just not _do_. Store-bought? _Blasphemy! _ It was little enough, but if that was what it…they…she?…wanted, she would have the very best that Tom Dupain could make. They were owed that—both of them were! The finest chocolate chip cookies in Paris!

The bell on the oven timer dinged, and Tom slipped on a mitt and slid the cookie sheet out of the oven. Just turning brown at the edges. Perfect. He set the sheet on a cooling rack and went back to mixing the cake batter.

A short while later, Tom took a spatula and transferred two still-warm chocolate-chip cookies to a plate sitting where Marinette could snag them on her way out the door. He held one of his massive hands over the plate, feeling the warmth rising from it. 

He said a silent prayer. To God? To a…Goddess? He did not know.

_Thank you._

_Please bring peace to Paris._

_And please, please, bring her home safe._

He left them there and went to wash his hands before punching down the bread dough. 

Two cookies.

One for a daughter, much loved.

The other, for Paris.

**Author's Note:**

> They are not quite sure what Tikki *is*, but if she wants cookies, cookies she shall have.


End file.
